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Monday, 1 April 2013

I know this is a day late, but I was trapped inside a chocolate bunny. And then eaten by a HUGE monster...

I've often been accused of having too much imagination.  Now, this is unquantifiable, of course, because how much imagination is too much?  I suppose it depends on the circumstances - now for me, being a writer, having a huge imagination is a very important thing.  I can't just write the same book over and over again only changing names, locations, hair colour and the length of ...well, I was going to say first kiss, but you fill that one in for yourselves, all right?  So I need a massive imagination.
Just one of the many places I have downloaded my imagination recently.

But, for example, when flying..well, I don't have to tell you that an overactive imagination is not the best friend of being shot into the air whilst strapped into a metal tube, do I?  And, just for the record, simply sitting there rocking and muttering 'oh god, oh god, we're all going to die' isn't really imaginative.  No, imagination curses you with the visions of exactly how you are going to die, your grieving relatives, the number and type of flowers at your funeral, and the terrible way in which the loss of you is going to affect every single person on the planet.

Oh.  Just me, then.  Well, never mind, the principle stands.

Surely though I'm not the only person to look up and wonder what it must be like to be a tree?  Does everything down at ground level look as if it's moving in 'speeded up motion' like an old black and white film? Is night time just like one, long blink? And what colour is time travel?  And if I were left-handed instead of right(ish) handed, would my whole life be different?  Would I be a different person?  Or just me with worse handwriting?

So for the rest of today I am going to sit somewhere, surrounded by chocolate (it is still Easter, isn't it?  I mean, Monday counts...) and tea, and imagine myself on a desert island, surrounded by coconuts (it's fine, I like coconuts) and a hazy sea...

And now I'm wondering where pilchards come from and how big they get if they don't get caught and put in a tin.  Do they eat people if they get big enough?  Do pilchards swim around desert islands....?
Yes, they look harmless enough, but forty thousand of anything can kill you...



6 comments:

Carol Hedges said...

Dunno about pilchards, but I know a sardine poem:
The thunder roars, the lightening flashed/The whole of the world was hid.
The little sardine crawled into his tin/And quickly pulled down the lid.

You don't have to thank me;it was a pleasure.

D.J. Kirkby said...

Brilliant post as usual! My husband would say you are an over-thinker. Again, not really quantifiable but never mind....though at a guess I would say jumping from coconuts to pilchards to 40,000 pilchards might just be over-thinking...

Flowerpot said...

I like the term 'over thinker' - that could apply to many writers I know. Myself included!

Maggie Winter said...

So I'm not the only one who imagines it all when flying, 10mg of valium works for me.
Love the blog

Jane Lovering said...

Thank you, Carol. I think.

And everyone else, thank you for agreeing with me. I always like it when people agree with me - although, Maggie, I'm practically immune to Valium. Got anything stronger (nudge nudge)?

Nicola said...

Nope, you're not the only one!